Sleep is Optional
by mebfeath
Summary: Set after 'News Night with Will McAvoy'. Mac needs to know Will's ok.
1. Chapter 1

'C'mon, Will. Answer your phone,' Mackenzie muttered, holding the phone tightly to her ear, as if holding it tightly would have some kind of effect. When she counted the seventh ring she sighed; he wasn't going to answer. His phone only rang eight times before going to voicemail. She hung up as she heard his familiar yet disembodied voice.

'_This is Will McAvoy's phone…_'

'Dammit,' she said, tossing her phone onto bed next to her. It was 2am, and she was in bed. She'd stayed up finishing off some paperwork, but her mind was elsewhere – the recurring images of Will's face playing in front of her eyes had haunted her from the moment they'd come from the break to his broken face. She'd managed to push them out of her mind until the end of the broadcast, but they'd come flooding back once she didn't have anything else that demanded her attention.

* * *

She threw down the headset and raced out of the control room as soon as they were clear, desperate to get to him. Desperate to shield him from whatever was coming, from anything. From the tweets of small people who were desperate for fame and would destroy anyone on their mad scramble to what they thought was the top. From the pain. From whatever she could.

She stopped as she got in the door; he had already pulled his mic pack from his belt and had laid it on the desk in front of him. He turned, computer and phone in one hand, and headed towards her and the door.

'Will,' she said quietly, and he glanced up at her as he pushed past. His eyes were red-rimmed and only half-open and _dead_. They were glassy and emotionless. There was nothing. And in that moment, Mac's heart broke.

'I'm fine,' he muttered quietly, not stopping. She turned to watch him go, but didn't follow.

He wasn't hers anymore to follow.

* * *

She looked down at her blackberry. She could try one more time, she thought helplessly, knowing it wouldn't make a difference. He wasn't answering, for whatever reason.

She could call Charlie. She picked up her phone and promptly dropped it again. It was 2:07am. Charlie - and his family - would be asleep.

_You're overreacting_, she told herself. _He's fine. He's just upset – deservedly so – and doesn't want to talk to you. Why would he want to talk to you?_

He wouldn't, she knew. _But it isn't really about him, now is it?_

* * *

She wasn't going to give up. She knew he was in there, and she knew he could hear her.

Well, she hoped he could.

She banished that thought as fast as it had appeared. She couldn't do that; she couldn't discover him on the floor of his bathroom – on the floor of anywhere - again. Not again.

She tried – fairly unsuccessfully – to quash the panic that had taken up residence in her chest. _He is just ignoring you. He just doesn't want company._

She made a fist and banged on the door. She needed to know if he was ok. Well, she knew he wouldn't be ok, but she needed to know he was going to turn up to work tomorrow. Or the next day. Or at some previously-designated point in the future after he visits Nebraska for the funeral.

She banged again.

And again.

And again.

She was muttering to herself about the thickness of walls and doors and just about to bang again when the door flew open.

'Mac, it's one in the morning,' he said.

Suddenly she felt very, very stupid.

'Actually, it's 1:45 in the morning,' she said, shifting her weight back and forth from foot to foot.

She took a second to look him over; he was in a t shirt and shorts, and his eyes were half-closed and red. She couldn't tell whether he'd been crying, or she'd simply woken him up really, really early.

'What do you want?' he asked when she didn't say anything.

'You weren't answering your phone,' she said.

'It's one in the morning,' he said a little louder. She nodded, still feeling stupid.

'I just…I just wanted to make sure you were ok, and you weren't answering your phone and so I…'

'…came over to check I hadn't thrown myself off my balcony,' he finished.

'Well, I knew you hadn't done that because I would have known about it pretty quickly,' she said, a small smile on her face.

He just glared at her for a second.

'Well, now I know, I'll go,' she said, turning on her heel.

'Mac,' he called, his voice tired. She spun just a little too quickly to be convincing.

'Yeah?'

He said nothing as he moved away from the doorframe, holding the door open for her.

She smiled a little and ducked inside.

'I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you,' she said as she turned to face him. He just walked past her and into his bedroom. She just stood there awkwardly; she was quite positive he didn't want her to follow.

She turned on the spot to survey his apartment. Nothing much had changed; the wall-sized windows, the table, the kitchen, the couch… He didn't like change, she knew, but something in her had just assumed his apartment had changed at least a little in the five years she'd been gone.

She turned as she heard footsteps. He'd returned carrying a blanket and a pillow.

'What's this for?' she asked as he tossed them on the couch.

'You forget I know you,' he said, avoiding her eyes. 'I had the cushions redone a few months back. I hope it's comfortable enough,' he said, waving in the general direction of the couch.

She swallowed. She knew exactly how comfortable that couch had been; she'd spent many an evening wrapped around its owner on that couch, slowly falling asleep to the sound of football reruns or the late news.

She looked down at her feet, unable to look at him whilst those memories flooded unbidden through her mind.

'Yeah,' she muttered. 'It'll be perfect.' And he was right; he did know her. He knew her well enough to know – or at least suspect – that she wouldn't sleep for the rest of the night if she wasn't at least 100% sure he was ok.

'Good,' he said, turning to walk away. She watched him go, her emotions building up until she couldn't contain them anymore.

'I'm sorry. I shouldn't have let you do the rest of the broadcast. I should have gotten Elliott in early or crossed to D.C. or done something and before you say you're very convincing, I know that, but it was my call and I shouldn't have let you do it. And I'm sorry I pushed you to call. If you hadn't called you wouldn't have spoken to your sister and you wouldn't have known about your father and you would have been fine to finish the broadcast perfectly.'

She took a deep breath and sighed, looking down at her feet, trying to work up the courage to look him in the eyes. She could feel his eyes on her.

'It wasn't your fault.'

'Yes, it was. I should have called it,' she said quietly.

Will sighed. 'Mac, I said I was fine.'

'_I_ should have known you weren't!' she cried, looking up at him. Will's eyes widened slightly and she looked back down at the floor, kicking herself.

_Stupid, stupid_… Just when she was making ground. Just when she thought she'd turned the tables enough. Just when she'd pushed him away just enough to make him think about it, she has to open her big mouth and catapult herself back to square one.

All the way back to the start. All that ground she'd carefully clawed back.

Who was she kidding? He didn't want her any more. There was just too much water under that bridge.

Her heart throbbed painfully at the thought.

'Thanks for the pillow,' she said quietly, still not looking at him.

'Mac,' he said quietly, but she ignored him, arranging the pillow and blanket on the couch.

'Go to bed, Will,' she said, not looking up at him.

'Mac,' he said again, and she continued to ignore him, kicking off her trainers.

'Mac!' he shouted, and she jumped, turning around in surprise. He looked frustrated but contrite; he hadn't meant to scare her. 'Would you come here?' he said quietly, his arm out. She looked at him, frowning for a second before treading the couple of steps to stand in front of him.

'Thank you,' he said quietly before slowly wrapping his arms around her. She responded, wrapping her own arms around his torso and burying her face in his shoulder. They stayed there for a long while, Mac enjoying the warmth and softness of his hug. God, she missed his hugs. He was so much bigger than her and he literally enveloped her with his arms and she felt nothing but small and safe and loved.

She slowly pulled away, knowing that she was all of those things. Except maybe loved.

'I'm sorry about your Dad,' she said quietly, glancing up at him at just the right moment to see him blink. She glanced back up at him in shock – his eyes were red, and definitely wet. 'Oh God, Will!' she cried, launching herself up on her toes to wrap her arms around his shoulders, squeezing him tightly. He wrapped his long arms around her, gripping her sweater with his hands and burying his face in her neck.

She couldn't stop the tears from running down her face, and nor did she really want to. All she cared about in that moment was that she could feel hot, wet tears on her neck from the eyes of the man she loved. She could feel his body shake every few seconds with a sob, no matter how hard she knew he was trying to stop. She ran her fingers through his hair and down his back quietly, trying to soothe him, but saying nothing.

Eventually his body stopped shaking, but he didn't move, his arms still wrapped tightly around her. She continued to stroke his hair and his back, knowing he'd let go when he was ready.

She felt his head move slightly, and she allowed one of her hands to move from his back to his neck, still running her fingers through his hair.

And then she felt it.

She froze.

_No, you're imagining things. Stop. _

A second later, she knew she wasn't imagining anything.

He was kissing her neck.

She stayed frozen, her mind spinning. He was slowly trailing hot, wet kisses up her neck. Her body went into overdrive, an automatic response brought about by _Will McAvoy kissing her neck_. Before she knew it, she was tilting her head just slightly, allowing him greater access to her neck. He kissed her neck just at her jawline, and she couldn't help but let out a tiny, barely perceptible whimper. She froze, the noise breaking through the otherwise silent apartment, but it only served to push him further. He relaxed his grip on her jumper, one hand sliding up her back to her shoulder blade, the other at the base of her spine, ever so gently pulling her closer.

Her mind was spinning. He was kissing her neck. Will McAvoy was kissing her neck.

Will McAvoy, who had just lost his father, was kissing her neck.

'Will,' she said quietly, lowering her chin a little to get his attention. She felt his lips leave her neck – the sudden coldness sending shivers down her spine – but their destination was very soon apparent. She couldn't help but let out a small moan as his lips crashed down on hers, slowly and gently kissing her senseless.

Her fingers thread up through his hair, her fingernails on his scalp. She felt him suck in a deep breath, his own hands tensing and pulling her closer to him, leaving her under no illusions as to what he wanted.

He wanted her.

'Will,' she said, tilting her head downwards, moving her mouth firmly away from his. She rested her forehead on his.

'Mac-'

'You're not thinking straight,' she whispered. 'You…you don't really want me. You don't want this. You need to rest,' she said, now completely confused, her own heavy breathing matched by his.

He didn't say anything for a second before his hands moved to her neck, tilting her head up to kiss her again, hungrily, greedily. Her mind spun again, not sure what to do. All she wanted at this very moment was for him to carry her to his bed. But she knew he wasn't thinking straight, and she couldn't bear his ashamed look in the morning when he realised what he'd done.

Her heart couldn't take being broken again.

Her train of thought was momentarily derailed when his hand slipped under her sweater to the soft, warm skin of her back underneath.

'Will, we have to stop,' she said pulling back a few inches; enough to give them space, but not far enough away that she had to let him go. She looked up into his red-rimmed eyes, the redness doing nothing to diminish the darkness she knew too well. The darkness she craved in his eyes when looking at her – a wish she had lost all right to so many years ago.

'Please don't go,' he said, pulling her close again, sliding his arms around her torso again. 'Stay with me.'

The crack in his voice just about broke her – not that there was much left to break. She would do anything for this man, and it scared her.

'Of course I'll stay,' she whispered back, her hands on his neck and in his hair. 'I just don't want you to regret anything tomorrow. I couldn't survive round two,' she whispered, her own voice breaking. At the sound, he pulled her tight, squeezing her and burying his face into her shoulder.

'I'm sorry,' he whispered. She pulled back from him, placing one hand on his cheek.

'I'm sorry too,' she whispered back. She watched as he turned his head to kiss her palm, grabbing her other hand in his. He gently squeezed her hand and tugged on it slightly, willing her to understand. She looked up at his miserable, desperate face and gave him a small smile. She walked past him, still gripping his hand, and pulled him towards his bedroom. He gladly followed, allowing her to cover him with the blankets, and grabbing her arm as she wrapped herself around him, intertwining their legs. She ran her fingers through his hair until his breathing evening out, and she knew he was asleep.

* * *

_I have some ideas, but I'm not sure if I want to take this any further. Let me know what you think._

_Feedback is always appreciated!_


	2. Chapter 2

She lay there, staring at the ceiling. She couldn't sleep; every time Will moved or made a sound she jumped, stroking his back or his hair until she was sure he was asleep again. A few times he pulled her so close that she couldn't move; all she could do was run her leg up and down his, and whisper in his ear that she was there and to sleep.

She turned her head slightly and looked at the clock: 3:20am. She sighed, and looked over at Will. She'd managed to extricate herself from him slowly so she could go to the bathroom and grab her phone. She'd resigned herself to getting absolutely no sleep now, so she may as well be vaguely entertained.

* * *

'What happened last night?' Sloan asked as she pushed the door to his office closed. He'd seen her coming; she'd been waiting for his arrival and had followed him into his office.

'Good morning to you too, Sloan,' he said, putting his bag down and not looking up from his desk. That seemed to remind Sloan that there was a whole lot more going on than she knew, and she stopped for a second.

'I'm sorry about your father,' she said. He looked up at her and nodded.

'Thanks.'

'Did you see Mac last night?' she asked, her change of tack completely unsubtle. Will looked up at her.

'And why would you ask that, Sloan?'

'She looks terrible. She looks like she hasn't slept.'

'And how is that my fault?' Will asked, pulling his laptop out of his bag.

'I…well…I suppose it's not, but I thought I'd at least ask. I may have had a scenario in my head where Mac went home with you to make sure you were ok and neither of you then got any sleep-' Will's head shot up at this point – 'but clearly that's way off the mark and I'm going to go now,' she said, turning and walking out of the office.

Will rested his hands on his desk and took a deep breath, exhaling slowly. As much as he wanted to be a coward and hide in his office all day, he needed to see Mackenzie.

* * *

'I'm coming. Yes, I know I'm late,' Mackenzie said when her door opened, not looking up from her bag.

'You…uh…you left early,' Will said quietly when he knew the door was shut.

Mackenzie's head shot up from where it was buried in her bag at her feet.

'I didn't want to wake you. You were asleep,' she said quietly, looking up at him through her glasses.

'Yeah,' he said, finding something to fiddle with on her desk. She watched as he fiddled for a second before returning to digging in her bag for whatever it was she was looking for.

He watched as she finally found what she wanted – her phone charger – and tried to get a good look at her face. Her eyes were difficult to see past the glasses, so he couldn't verify Sloan's statement.

'Mac.'

'Yeah?' she said, not looking up at him. He waited, and she eventually looked up at him.

'Take off your glasses?'

'Why?' He noticed that her face didn't contort with the same kind of confusion that it usually did when she was asking a question. She knew what he was asking.

'Please?' he demanded more than asked, and she sighed, pulling her glasses off and looking up at him. Her eyes were red and a little bloodshot, and she had bags under her eyes that rivalled his.

'What do you want, Will?' He shook his head.

'Sloan dropped by my office a few minutes ago. She said you looked like hell and so I came to see for myself.' Her face contorted in confusion.

'Sloan? Why did she-' She stopped dead, her mouth open. Will just nodded.

'What did you tell her?'

'Nothing. I said nothing,' he replied, and Mackenzie's head hit the desk. 'She did not, however, leave with the impression that I had anything to do with…this…' he said, pointing to her face. Mac's head shot up and she raised an eyebrow. 'Not that you look bad or anything,' he said quickly. She sighed, grabbing the paperwork in front of her, and stood.

'We're late for the run-down,' she said, walking around her desk.

'Mac,' he said quietly. She stopped to look at him. 'Did you get any sleep last night?'

'Yeah. Yup,' she replied, waving her hand. He wasn't convinced, and it showed one his face. 'I got a couple of hours,' she lied, and he raised his eyebrows. She turned and walked towards the door.

'Mac.'

'Yeah?'

'Thank you,' he said, staring at the floor initially before working up the guts to look her in the eye. Her face was blank, but she was too tired to hide the emotion in her eyes. She looked so vulnerable, so easily broken. So exhausted. And it was all his fault.

'You would do the same,' she replied, before putting her head down and walking out the door.

* * *

'Right, let's go,' she said as she pushed the door to the conference room open. There was a scurrying of hands and paperwork and hushed voices and she got the distinct impression that she was the topic of conversation.

'What's going on?' she asked carefully, looking around the room. No one would meet her eyes, their faces a series of frowns and gentle grimaces. Her heart dropped. 'What is going on?' she asked again, slowly and loudly. The tension in the room was palpable. Whatever it was, it wasn't a joke.

She turned as the door opened and Will stuck his head through the door. 'Mac,' he said, flicking his head in the direction of his office before leaving again. She watched him go for a second before turning back around to the group of journalists sitting in front of her, none of whom had worked up the guts to look her in the face.

'Right. Someone had better get a set of balls before I get back,' she said loudly, before following Will out of the room.

'Mac!' a voice called from behind. Mac turned.

'Seriously, Jim? What is going-'

'You need to see this.' He handed her his iPad, a story open on the screen.

'Oh, fuck,' she whispered, her voice barely audible in the loud bullpen.

'Charlie's already been on the phone threatening murder and suits for libel and slander and _tell_ _me_ it isn't you in the pictures, Mac.'

She looked up at him, his eyes watching her keenly for any sign that it wasn't indeed her in the trainers and running tights leaving Will's building at 5am that morning, and not finding any.

At least she knew what was going on.

Her mind was in a haze. She handed the iPad back to Jim and walked across the bullpen in the direction of Will's office, hearing nothing but a ringing in her ears, her mind repeating the headline from Jim's iPad over and over again.

She swallowed as she walked into Will's office and stood in front of his desk. He was standing on the other side of the room, his hands in his pockets.

It wasn't so much fury that drove her. It was humiliation first. She suddenly understood what Sloan had meant the other day when she had said that after humiliation came rage. Pure, unadulterated, uncontrollable rage.

'You bastard.'

'What?' He had the gall to look confused. She took a deep breath, knowing that she couldn't hit him. He needed to go on the air in ten hours and she was nothing if not professional. So she stood there, dancing on the spot, her fists clenching and unclenching as she struggled to think through the fury.

'Mac, words.'

She exploded. 'It's not enough that you parade them in front of me, but then to _use_ me…' she trailed off. 'Your revenge would have been truly complete then, wouldn't it?'

The rage was gone, replaced by the overwhelming urge to sob, and sob hysterically. She stumbled backwards, reaching her hand out to grab the door handle. He took a step towards her, and she held up a hand before turning and stumbling out of the room.

She put her head down and walked, desperate that no one should see the tears pooling in her eyes and the hurt she couldn't hide etched on her face. She was dimly aware of him calling her name, but she couldn't talk to him right now. Not until she'd got herself under control.

She realised she was heading for her office and turned on her heel, headed for the elevator – the beauty of elevators was that he couldn't follow her. She hit the button for a few floors above them; one with a balcony. She needed some air.

She turned and looked out across the bullpen automatically – he was running towards the elevator. She took a step back and leant against the wall of the elevator, as if it would somehow cause the doors to close faster and keep him from her. She watched as the doors closed slowly, and the frustration that appeared on his face when he realised he wasn't going to make it.

She sighed. Air.

* * *

'Dammit,' he yelled, hitting the wall next to the elevator before immediately recoiling in pain. The wall was solid, and his hand wasn't quite up to the challenge.

He turned to see Jim standing a few feet away. He frowned and turned to walk back to his office, ignoring Jim.

'She didn't know,' came Jim's voice from behind. Will turned to look at the younger man, his eyes widening slightly.

'It had nothing to do with us, but...' He trailed off, looking around. 'We did everything we could to hide it from her.' Jim's eyes flashed in anger. 'We traded favours to keep it out of the tabloids, convincing people it wasn't a story. That nothing would come of it, and it wasn't worth their pages. We even helped them other meaningless stories. And in _one night_ you-' He stopped.

Will looked down at the ground, nodding. Understanding.

He really was a bastard.

* * *

_Note: I have taken a little poetic licence here - I'm assuming that Mac doesn't find out about Nina until a little later because I'm fairly sure the first mention of their relationship is when Mac calls her Mrs Macbeth in 'One Step Too Many' (2x06). I'm also assuming that the AWN building has a few balconies. If that doesn't float well with you, then consider this slightly AU._

_Not 100% sure on this. I guess we'll see how it works out. Feel free to send any suggestions my way! I hope it makes sense..._

_Any and all feedback is greatly appreciated. Thank you to those who took the time to review my last chapter!_


	3. Chapter 3

Mac pocketed her phone and stared out across New York, wrapping her arms around her against the cold breeze that whipped around the building.

She was sick of the argument in her head. Maybe coming back was wrong, and maybe it wasn't. Either way, it hurt, as she knew it would, and she just had to deal with that.

She just didn't expect it to hurt quite like this.

She ignored the tears that slipped slowly down her face.

* * *

Mac walked quietly across the bullpen towards her office, ignoring the sideways glances of the news team. She had a job to do, and she wanted to do it, and Will McAvoy's ego wasn't going to stop that.

She stopped at Jim's desk. 'Meeting in ten,' she said, turning and heading back to her office. Jim watched her go for a second before scrambling after her.

'I'm sorry,' he said as soon as he'd entered the room.

'Oh, what for?' Jim flinched. He knew that tone, and he knew this discussion wasn't going to end well for him.

'Hiding…it…' he trailed off. 'We thought we were doing the right thing,' he said defensively, but only half-heartedly.

'Well, you weren't,' she shot back. 'And 'we'? Who else was a part of this little charade?' she asked, narrowing her eyes.

'Oh, just me and Maggie. And Gary. Kendra, Tess…' he trailed off again when he saw her face.

'So, the _entire_ _newsroom_?' she yelled incredulously.

'We're sorry. We know what we did was wrong, but it wasn't ill-intentioned,' he said quietly. She held her glare for a second, before softening.

'I know,' she replied. 'How did you-no. I don't want to know.' Jim shook his head. 'Just do me a favour and assume that I'm a grown woman who can handle the news in future?' she asked, and Jim grimaced, nodding.

'Meeting in seven minutes,' she yelled at the retreating figure. 'And it had better be good!'

* * *

Charlie frowned as he saw Jim leaving Mac's office. 'She's mad.'

'Furious.'

'I would be too if what was said about her was said about me.' Jim frowned.

'That's the thing…it was her,' he said, a frown on his face.

'What?' Charlie said, turning to face Jim, who nodded. 'Geez,' he muttered, the enormity of the news not lost on him. 'The photos are so blurry and with the cap on…' he trailed off. 'Well, we have a case, according to legal, if she wants to pursue it.'

'I don't think now would be a good time to ask.'

Charlie shook his head. 'No. Nope.' He paused. 'She bit your head off?'

'Cleanly at the neck.'

'You deserved it.'

'I know.'

Charlie grinned at the frustrated young producer standing next to him. 'You're a good friend, Jim Harper.' He paused again. 'Maybe just stay out of her way for a few days,' he added quickly, and Jim nodded, returning to his desk.

* * *

'I don't need it, Charlie,' Will said loudly, turning back to face the windows of his office.

'Well, you're going to get it anyway,' Charlie declared. 'What were you _thinking_?'

'I wasn't.'

'No shit.'

Will shot him a glare. 'I think it's just possible that I may deserve a bit of slack considering my father had just died,' he shot back at Charlie, his voice rising throughout the statement.

'I'm sorry about your Dad,' Charlie said after a pause, and Will knew he meant it.

'Thanks.'

Charlie sighed. 'I doubt the irony is lost on you.'

Will visibly tensed, turning to face the older man. Charlie raised his eyebrows, and Will turned back around in defeat.

'No,' he eventually replied.

'Have you spoken to Nina?'

'No.'

'Are you going to?'

Will turned and stared at him. 'Of course I'm going to talk to Nina.'

'You didn't talk to Mac.'

'What?'

'You knew they were working hard to hide this…thing…from her and it didn't at any point occur to you to have the decency to save them time and effort and just actually _tell_ her yourself?'

Will stared at the older man, the shame finally hitting him. It had very briefly occurred to him that he should perhaps tell Mackenzie, but…he didn't. He liked to think it was because he was trying to protect her, hoping she'd never find out, but he knew he was kidding himself. He didn't tell Mackenzie because he knew exactly why he was doing what he was doing, which caused him some shame. But what he didn't enjoy admitting to himself is that it was mostly because he couldn't actually bring himself to tell her, and that in itself terrified him. That maybe, just maybe, he'd seen enough pain in her eyes to last a lifetime and then some but that it still wasn't enough to salvage his broken ego. That every time he hurt her he felt like a little more of himself was breaking instead of rebuilding the satisfaction and power he craved.

And it was because she owned him. She owned him six years ago, and she owned him now and nothing he could do would change that. He had loved her so wholly and then she'd torn his heart out and ripped it into little pieces - and yet he still loved her with every piece of his heart.

And _that_ terrified him.

'I didn't know what they were doing,' he replied and Charlie threw his hands in the air.

'You date _Nina Howard_ for _six months_ with _no publicity_ and you're telling me that you didn't at least wonder _why _there was complete radio silence?

Will glared at Charlie before looking away.

'When's your flight?'

'Eleven.'

'Have you at least told her you're going?' Charlie asked.

Will avoided his eyes.

'You haven't even told her yet,' he muttered, throwing his hands up in the air.

'In case you hadn't noticed, I'm not exactly the most popular person in her world,' he bit back.

'She's your EP. You have to tell her you're going.'

'It's the weekend, Charlie. If anything crops up, Elliott can handle it,' he muttered, turning back to the windows. Charlie just stared at him in silence for a few moments.

'What happened?' Will shot him a look, but gave in. He didn't want to fight with Charlie.

'When I didn't answer the phone, she assumed the worst and-'

'…came over to make sure you weren't lying a pool of your own blood. And then one thing led to another-'

'We didn't sleep together,' Will interjected. 'If you must know.'

Charlie looked confused. 'Then what was she doing there for three and a half hours?'

'Sleeping. Or not sleeping, as it appears,' he said waving in the general direction of Mackenzie's office. Charlie raised his eyebrows. 'She turned up on my doorstep and if I hadn't let her stay, she would have only spent the night worrying at her place, so I let her stay with me,' he muttered. He neglected to add the finer details, but the less Charlie knew the better.

Charlie bit back a grin, but still managed to look smug – a look that earned him a dirty look from Will.

'You're an idiot.'

'I know.' Will grabbed a cigarette and lit it.

'Tell her you're going, and tell her when you're coming back. And _sort this out_,' he added loudly at the end before storming out of Will's office.

* * *

_Note: More poetic license - I'm moving 23 September 2011 to a Thursday instead of a Friday and because I'm the author I can do that. (Read: probably should have checked that first. Rookie mistake. Apologies.)_

_Thanks for all the great feedback. It's all very much appreciated - keep it coming!_


	4. Chapter 4

Will sat in the back of the bar, sipping his scotch. It was 12:39pm, and he was fairly certain she wasn't coming.

The phone call hadn't been pleasant.

'_Oh, you're calling me. That's sweet.'_

'_Nina-'_

'_Yes, Will?'_

'_Can I at least explain?'_

'_If you think you can, sure.'_

She'd hung up after telling him when and where to meet. Which is exactly where he was, wishing he was anywhere else. Absolutely anywhere else.

Eventually she'd arrived, twenty minutes late.

'Hi.'

'Hi.'

'For the record, we didn't sleep together.'

'How comforting.'

'My father died, Nina.'

'I know this now.'

Will at least had the good grace to look a little guilty.

'I'm sorry about your dad, Will. I really am.'

'Thanks,' he replied, knowing she meant it, before redirecting the conversation back to his already-sunk attempt to save his sham of a relationship. 'It's not like I called her. She just showed up on my doorstep when I didn't answer the phone.'

'Do you regularly answer calls from Mackenzie McHale at one in the morning?'

He sighed. 'Yes. No. Sometimes. But you know that.' He watched as Nina's mouth dropped open slightly, her eyes narrowing. 'What?'

'She didn't know about us.'

Will looked down at the table. 'No.'

'No. Of course not,' she muttered, as if it were suddenly obvious. 'I knew your staff wanted it kept out the media-'

'I didn't know about that!' Will interjected.

'-but I assumed that was to protect your reputation.'

'How did _you_ know about that?' he asked incredulously.

'They're _your_ staff.'

'They're…they're loyal to Mackenzie over me,' he admitted. There was silence at the table for a few moments.

'Do you remember when you invited me to the AWM restaurant that day and you asked me out?' Will sighed, opening his mouth to interject, but Nina just talked straight over the top of him. 'Do you remember why I said no?'

'Nina-'

'Do you remember?'

Will sighed. 'Of course I do.'

'Tell me, Will.' Her voice was quiet now.

'You thought I was still in love with Mackenzie.'

'Yes.'

'Nina, it's not what it looks like in the photos,' he protested.

'Oh, really? She arrives at half-past one in the morning and leaves after 5am and I'm supposed to believe that _it's not what it looks like_?'

'Do you trust me?' Will asked quietly, looking her directly into her eyes.

'What?' she asked, confused.

'Do you trust me?'

'Of course.'

'Good.'

'I just don't believe you,' she added quickly, taking a sip of her water.

'Dammit. Why would I lie to you?' he asked, his frustration with the whole situation making him angry.

Nina sighed and looked at him sadly. 'I guess it's because you have to ask that question.'

Will stared before hanging his head. His silver tongue, which had gotten him into and back out of so many situations, had just sunk him.

'It's ok, Will. You're a good guy. I believe you didn't sleep with her. I just don't believe you about anything else.'

'I'm not in love with her,' he said quietly, an almost desperate edge to his voice. Nina stood, pushing the chair away. Will automatically copied her.

'Yes, you are. You're just one of two people in the world who can't see it.'

Will sighed and tossed his napkin on the table, as Nina walked around the table to him. She put her hand on one cheek, pulling he head towards hers slightly, and kissed him softly on the other.

'It's been serious fun. Thanks for the ride,' she whispered, before turning and walking away. He watched her go for a moment, his heart heavy.

'Nina, I'm sorry,' he said, just loud enough for her to hear.

She turned and smiled sadly at him. 'I know. And that's the only thing that's going to save you now, Will McAvoy. That and the fact that there's more than one woman in the world who's in love with you.' Her smile faltered for a second. 'You're still an idiot, Will.'

* * *

_As always, feedback and suggestions are greatly appreciated._


	5. Chapter 5

Will walked into the bullpen and stopped. It was alarmingly quiet.

_Shit. _

_Second run-down meeting._

He'd already missed the first trying to stop his life from falling apart. Now that it was actually falling apart, he was late for the second meeting. He turned and walked in the direction of the meeting, trying to put his…meeting? Date? Discussion? with Nina out of his mind. He'd been kidding himself, really; it was never serious, and he'd definitely gone into it with the wrong intentions.

He'd just always thought he'd be the one to end it.

He squared his shoulders a little, knowing Mackenzie would be annoyed with him for his absence. He also knew that he probably deserved what he got. Well, at least some of it.

She saw him just before he opened the door. She faltered for a second before regrouping enough to send him a look, before refocusing on the people in front of her.

He pushed the door open and walked to his usual seat at the end of the table. Jim was talking at the time, and Will almost felt sorry for him as he wavered for less than a second; Mackenzie's glare was brutal.

He spent the most of the meeting just listening, not interested in starting anything with Mackenzie in front of the staff. God knows it would probably end in a shouting match across the table and neither of them needed that again. Occasionally he would catch himself staring at her, and he'd look away, desperate not to meet eyes with her across the room.

They discussed Libya, Syria and the resignation of Oswald Grubel. Cain's upset win over Perry made the list, as did the election in the UAE. Will made brief mental notes on everything, contributing very occasionally, and only really when he was asked.

'Right, that's it. Let's get it all prepped and ready to go,' Mackenzie announced, before grabbing her stuff and walking out of the office. Will made no move to chase her; he knew exactly where she was going.

He left the boardroom and went to his own office, and waited.

He only had to wait a few minutes.

'I assume you're writing your script for tonight?' she asked as she stalked into his office.

'Yes,' he replied after a pause.

'Good,' she replied before storming back out again. He opened his mouth to call her back, but decided against it.

It was going to be a long day.

* * *

The broadcast went exactly to plan, and he hated every minute of it. He was curt with everyone – so was Mac, he thought to himself childishly – and he'd had to work hard not to yell across the newsroom. That, and Mac said barely two words in his ear all night, not that he'd expected much else. Not that he wanted much else at the moment, but her voice always…well, it did something.

He pulled himself from his chair and headed for his office before he realised he still hadn't told Mac he was going back to Nebraska for the funeral.

He stopped in the hallway. He didn't really have to tell Mac; he would only be gone for the weekend. She wouldn't even notice he was gone, providing the shit didn't hit the fan somewhere in the world and he was required for special, earth-shattering coverage. Knowing his luck…

He knew he should tell her. It was the right thing to do. That, and she deserved to know.

Why she deserved to know he didn't know, but something in him told him that she deserved to know.

He sighed and closed his eyes.

* * *

He took a deep breath in, exhaled quietly and pushed her door open.

'Hey,' he ventured as she looked up from her desk. He watched as she clenched her jaw at the sight of him. He decided to push on anyway.

'Can we talk for a second?'

She frowned and slowly started standing. 'What do we have to talk about, Will? I don't think we have anything to discuss.'

'Mac-'

'Unless you want to discuss photos of me in a tabloid article asking if _you're cheating on Nina Howard with me_!' she shouted at him. He closed his eyes and sighed. He should have known this was _never_ going to work.

'Mac-'

'No? Then I don't think we have anything to discuss, Will.' By now she was standing opposite him on one side of her office, keeping her distance because she knew if she got close she was going to hit him. 'I've only ever asked one thing of you and your personal life and that was to keep it out of the tabloids. And you couldn't even do that!'

'I'm sorry about the photos. I didn't know they had reporters camped outside my building.'

'They don't, you douche bag! They're photos from an iPhone. Someone from NewsCorp just happened to be walking past at the time and recognised me!'

Will closed his eyes again.

'Why on earth they would recognise me, I don't know. But then I realise that they've been waiting for this for _six months_. _Six months_ they-' she waved in the general direction of the staff '-hid it from me. You've been dating Nina Howard for _six months_!'

'I know how long I was dating her.'

'And then I find out that my staff have been working behind my back to keep you and her out of the news. But not this time. Their combined yearly salaries couldn't have afforded the journalistic delight that was the headline '_Cheating with a cheater_'!'

'I know what it said, Mac,' he said quietly, trying in vain to calm her – and himself – down.

'That's my reputation, you bastard. I care what these people think of me – as opposed to you who only cares about the opinion of the faceless, nameless millions!'

'It's my reputation too,' he shouted back, unable to control himself. 'And it was my relationship!'

'A relationship you kept hidden from me!'

'The _staff_ hid it from you, not me!'

'You didn't even have the decency to tell me!' she cried.

'Tell me, Mackenzie, why I should have told you I was dating Nina Howard,' he asked, lowering his voice.

'I wouldn't have called last night if I had known!'

'I didn't ask you to come around last night. You did that on your own!' he shouted back.

'And I didn't ask you to kiss me!' she shot back.

He stopped. He deserved that one. If she'd crossed a line by coming over – by caring – then he'd more than definitely crossed one by kissing her. Albeit a half-drunken, grief-filled event, but nonetheless. The blame for that idiotic and reckless decision rested squarely on his shoulders.

'I don't understand, Will. You say you wanted to marry me – that you even had the ring to prove it – and then I tell you I'd cheated on you with Brian months earlier, the world falls apart-'

'The ring wasn't real.' It was out of his mouth before he could stop it. She stared at him. He shook his head; it really was over now. She was never, ever going to forgive him for this.

'I bought it when I found out the staff were vetting me. I knew you'd find that offer on the west coast, and that you'd come racing in here, waving the piece of paper triumphantly, saying that I was never as serious as I had claimed. And I couldn't do that. I couldn't…I couldn't let you win.' He couldn't bring himself to look at her face. He knew what he would find, and he wasn't brave enough to look his future in the eye as it walked away.

She frowned and nodded, clearly floored by his admission. 'I…ok.'

'I'm sorry,' he added dumbly, knowing nothing he could say now would make a difference. She just stood there, processing what he'd just said. Eventually, she nodded.

'I know I hurt you. I seriously and brutally hurt you, and for that I have spent literally _years_ apologising. But in all the time I was away, and in all the time I've been here, I never, ever, set out to do it intentionally.' He looked up at her, her red-rimmed eyes meeting his own. 'I have done nothing but put myself on the line for you.'

'I never asked you to,' he shot back, immediately regretting his words.

She stopped, the hurt evident on her face. 'I know.'

She turned and grabbed her phone and a pile of paperwork.

'What you do in your personal life is none of my concern, Will. Keep it that way,' she muttered, her eyes steely and her meaning abundantly clear. She stormed out of her office, and he didn't follow her.

* * *

_Hopefully that makes it clearer for those of you who are confused! _

_I know a few of the lines are very similar, but I think under the circumstances they both would have probably said what they said in the show, so I didn't see any real reason to change it much._

_Any and all feedback is very much appreciated. I really appreciate all the feedback I get - it's the only reason I keep writing._


	6. Chapter 6

'I thought I might find you up here,' a voice said from behind. Mac didn't need to turn her head to know it was Charlie.

'I like the view,' she said dryly as she took another sip of her wine.

'Wow. A whole bottle?'

'Yup,' she said.

'You'd better be careful. You'll end up like me,' he said, not entirely joking.

'Did you need something?' Mac asked, suddenly realising that Charlie was actually standing there and he was her boss and that he might actually want her for something. Not that a whole lot of anything was happening tonight. She had just drunk an entire bottle of red wine, and _boy_ did she know it.

'No, just came up to make sure you didn't throw yourself off.'

'Lovely.'

Charlie sat down in the chair next to her. 'He's gone for the funeral.'

Figures. He would leave the state and not tell her.

Well, to be fair, she hadn't given him much of an opportunity.

'Yup,' she replied.

'He'll be back on Sunday night,' Charlie said. Mac looked over at him, confused as to why he thought she didn't know all of this.

'Mum and Dad were fighting,' he said, his voice taking on a sing-song tone. 'It was a screaming match reminiscent of ye olden times, I heard,' he said, pouring himself a scotch from the bottle he'd evidently bought up with him for her. Mac rubbed her forehead with her hand. The image of Neal shouting about the glass not being soundproof in the bullpen suddenly raced through her mind. Of course they'd all heard. It was right after the broadcast and they would all have been standing around talking. Even if they hadn't heard words, the sound alone would have been loud enough.

'Well, they weren't wrong,' she muttered.

'I know. I know what two are like,' he said with a smirk.

'I'm glad you find amusement in all this,' she shot at him, the bottle of red wine doing more than enough talking. He just smiled at her and stood.

'I'm just happy that things are moving. Progressing. That maybe, just maybe, one day, you two will pull your heads out of your asses and actually make it work.'

And with that, Charlie took his bottle of scotch, half-full glass and single empty glass and left a surprised Mac contemplating just how much everyone around them knew.

* * *

'I didn't see you at Hang Chew's on Friday night,' Sloan stated, handing her some paperwork.

'I didn't much feel like company,' Mac replied, not looking up. She'd spent most of the weekend at home, cleaning and watching TV. The city she loved had taken on a slightly darker side, now that she knew she'd been recognised and photographed and published for all the world to see. She knew how much she valued her anonymity each time she saw another photo of a celebrity cross her desk, but it wasn't quite _real_ until her own privacy was violated so spectacularly.

She looked down at her watch. It was 7:30am. 'You're here early,' she commented.

'Gym,' Sloan replied. 'How was the funeral?' Mac looked up.

'What?'

'The funeral. Will's dad.'

Mac frowned and shook her head in confusion. 'I don't know. I didn't go,' she replied, looking back down at the paper in front of her.

'I just thought you would have spoken to...oh. Ok,' Sloan said slowly, putting the pieces together. 'I'm sorry about that stupid magazine,' she said. 'It's not fair.'

Mac half-smiled. 'Thanks.'

'Will is back, by the way.'

'I know. He should be in his office.'

'He is.' Sloan was almost dancing on her feet, which meant only one thing: she had something to say.

'Whatever it is Sloan, say it,' Mac said, looking up at her through her glasses.

Sloan looked confused for a second before sighing quickly.

'Ok, well, I don't know what's going on – other than what that stupid magazine said but I don't believe that – but I think Will feels really bad about it – whatever it is – because…well…he looks really down and you look really down too and everyone really, really wants you to sort it out because we'd just gotten used to you not yelling at each other all the time and now you're walking on egg shells around each other and it's really _awkward_ for everyone.' She took a deep breath and exhaled.

Mac just stared for a second, her eyebrows raised. 'Well, ok then. Did they send you in here to say all that?'

Sloan grimaced slightly.

'No…yes…well, they were all saying it and I just decided to become a kind of a spokesperson and maybe that was a bad idea,' she said, taking a small step backwards. 'Dammit, I knew I should have started with Will.'

'Yeah, probably,' Mac agreed.

Sloan's face softened. 'But seriously, if you need anything. You know where my office is.'

Mac smiled. 'Thanks.' She watched as Sloan headed for the door. 'Sloan?'

She spun on her heel. 'Yeah?'

'Thanks. I…thanks,' she stumbled out, not knowing how to put into words what she really wanted to say.

'Anytime.'

* * *

Will leant back in his chair, the cigarette propped between two fingers. He turned as his office door opened.

'Hey. Got a minute?' Sloan asked, half in the doorway. Will frowned; it was early, and hadn't expected anyone to be in yet.

'Yeah, come on in,' he said as he waved in her general direction. 'You're early.'

Sloan looked startled for a second. 'Oh, gym.'

'Ah.'

'Was it ok?' she asked carefully, her face soft.

'What?' He looked for confused for a second before realising what she meant. 'Yeah. It was ok.'

'I'm glad.'

'Thanks,' he replied, nodding. 'What's up?'

'Up? Well, that's the thing…' she trailed off, frowning and fiddling with her blackberry, something Will knew she did when she was nervous. After a few moments she stopped fiddling and narrowed her eyes at him. 'I'm _really_ sorry about your Dad, but you and Mac need to sort this out.'

Will just blinked.

'It's just…well, Mac looks really down and you look really down too and everyone really wants you to sort it out because we'd just gotten used to you speaking to each other as opposed to screaming at each other and now you're just walking on egg shells around each other and the staff are finding it very awkward.' She sort of 'humph'ed a little at the end, evidently pleased with her little lecture.

'Oh really,' Will said, his eyebrows raised. 'Did they send you in here to do this?' he asked, waving in the general direction of the newsroom.

'Dammit,' she muttered. 'That's what-no. No, they didn't, but everyone is saying it and I kinda appointed myself as spokeswoman.'

'Right.'

'This isn't working out as well as I imagined,' she said, her eyes narrowing slightly.

'No, I can see that,' Will replied slowly.

Her eyes narrowed further as she turned her to side slightly. 'Have you seen Mac this morning?'

Will frowned. 'Not yet,' he replied, hoping he didn't sound too guilty.

Guilty for what, he didn't really know.

'So…I'll just go now then,' she said, sidestepping to the door.

'Ok.' Will looked down at his newspaper, before sighing and shaking his head. 'Sloan!' he called as she stepped through the doorway. She turned, her eyes wide. 'Yeah?'

Will frowned, confused. This whole conversation – including Sloan's reactions – was confusing. 'You ok?'

Sloan shook her head slightly. 'Yeah, fine. It's just…nothing. Nope, I'm fine,' she said.

'Are you sure?' he asked slowly, his eyebrows raised.

'Yup!' she flashing him a smile.

'…ok,' he said, his eyes narrowing slightly before he decided to drop it. 'I know what you're trying to do…Thanks,' he ended up mumbling.

She stared at him for a second. 'Uncanny,' she said softly, before plastering a smile on her face. 'You know where I am if you need anything,' she said lightly before walking out the door.

Will frowned before turning back to his paper.

* * *

_Any and all feedback greatly appreciated. :)_


	7. Chapter 7

If anyone had seen Will McAvoy step into the elevator, they would have described the look on his face as resigned.

He knew why he had been summoned, and he suspected his recent trip home was going to be the excuse. Or at least the segue. He rubbed his eyes; they were dry and scratchy, and his arms ached. He hadn't gotten much sleep over the weekend between spending time with family and dealing with the funeral details, and it was taking its toll.

That, and Mackenzie.

He was no stranger to lack of sleep. He wasn't the kind of person who needed eight hours a night to function – not that he could remember the last time he got eight hours straight. But any idiot could tell that there was a distinct correlation between her return and his present state of sleep deprivation. Their recent sashay into half-drunk and grief-filled embraces just added a whole new level of complicated; and, suffice to say, his brain had gone into (and was very evidently still thoroughly enjoying) overdrive.

He tried to push her out of his mind as he stepped out of the elevator and walked the few steps to Charlie's office. She'd recommence actively ignoring him in real life soon enough.

'How was the funeral?' Charlie said, standing to greet him.

Will shrugged noncommittally.

'Family good?'

'Yup,' he replied, sitting down on one of the chairs opposite Charlie's desk.

'Everyone come back?'

'Yeah. From all corners of the country, they came,' he announced dramatically, but Charlie could see through the performance. 'Ah, everyone loved and hated the bastard.'

'Yeah. How are the nieces and nephews?'

'Good. I think. Tall,' he said frowning.

'You're tall.'

'My father was 5 foot 10,' Will countered.

'Clearly you all didn't get it from him,' Charlie decreed, pouring himself and Will a glass of bourbon. 'Seen Mac yet?' Will pursed his lips.

'No.' He took Charlie's offering, ignoring the fact it was 7:45am, but deciding at the last second against sculling it. He'd only had a coffee for breakfast, and he needed to focus today.

'I heard about Friday night,' Charlie said, a smirk on his face. Will closed his eyes and sighed.

'I'm fairly sure the entire building heard about Friday night,' Will replied.

'You two haven't shouted at each other like that in months,' Charlie said quietly.

'Yeah, well, you know what MacKenzie is like.'

'I know what _you're_ like!' Charlie shot back, and Will shot him a half-hearted glare.

'An iPhone, Charlie? Who the fuck is walking past my building at 5am, and how the fuck do they recognise Mackenzie?' Will yelled, standing up and pacing in anger.

'Someone from NewsCorp, apparently.'

'I don't buy it,' he said, shaking his head, his eyes narrowed.

'That's what journalism has come to, Will. Any idiot with a phone and two brain cells can make the news now days,' Charlie said, waving his hands. 'They tell me it's the digital generation. I couldn't care less what they call themselves. It's just making them meaner and harder to ignore,' he blustered. 'And harder to avoid.'

Will sat back down and took a mouthful of his bourbon. 'I didn't mean for her to get hurt,' he said, his voice returning to normal levels. 'She was only…trying to help.'

'I know. And yet it keeps happening,' Charlie replied, his tone matching Will's. Will shot him a look.

'That's what she said.'

'She's right.'

He stood again, pacing, the frustration he'd spent the weekend hiding coming flying out. 'I know she's fucking right, Charlie. I just…ugh!' he threw his hands in the air, frustrated even more by his sudden inability to use words.

'She drives you crazy,' Charlie filled in.

'She drives me insane!' he cried, his hands in the air.

'Well, you always were a little stupid when it came to Mackenzie,' Charlie said, his face perfectly serious. Will glared at him again, knowing full well where Charlie was going with this.

'Don't,' he said, pointing at him. Charlie shrugged. Will sat again and took another mouthful of his bourbon.

'What's the one thing you regret about your father?' Charlie asked, his tone changing as he put his feet up on the desk.

'What?' Will frowned, confused, and still frustrated.

'What's the one thing you regret about your father? If you had an extra 24 hours, what would you do?'

'Don't fuck with me, Charlie,' Will said, his eyes narrow. 'I know what you're doing.'

'I'm sure you do,' he replied. He paused, and looked out his window, past Will. 'You know, my wife used to say some smart things every now and then. One day, when we'd had a huge fight, she sat down on the bed next to me and said, '_Forgiveness is giving up my right to hurt you the way you hurt me_'. It really screwed with my head, because every time we had a fight and I said something mean, that statement would sit in my mind until I'd apologised. Damn smart woman,' he muttered, sculling the rest of his bourbon.

Will watched him warily, unwilling to betray his thoughts.

He knew Charlie was right; Will was simply hurting Mackenzie the way she hurt him.

She'd owned him, heart and all, and he'd loved it. And then she broke his heart into a million pieces and fled the scene, leaving him to pick them up and try to re-start living something like a vaguely normal life. Only she hadn't left them behind, he'd realised. She'd taken them with her, leaving only the burnt-out shell of a man that was once Will McAvoy.

He'd never forgotten what Charlie had said to him the day she returned, and he was right; the day she left was the day he stopped being a nice guy. And, unfortunately for all of them – most of all, himself – her return didn't herald the return of the nice Will McAvoy. Instead he'd unleashed vengeful, heart-broken, power-hungry Will; the kind of Will that was happy to exact his revenge in whatever way pleased him.

Only it hadn't pleased him; it hadn't brought him any pleasure at all. At first he'd felt a sense of power; she'd come back, reiterating her pleas for forgiveness in person, doing everything he demanded, and more. And he'd taken his revenge. Exacted his payment.

And there was a certain sense of satisfaction in the moment. Especially the moment when he produced the ring. He'd done it with a sense of achievement; he'd almost wanted to laugh. He'd beaten her again. He'd managed to be one step ahead of her, again.

But then she'd left his office, her heart on her sleeve and tears in her eyes and he'd _hated himself._

He'd managed to viciously hurt her and completely betray her trust. Again.

And it only left him a little more broken each time.

She still carried his heart, and she was slowly mending it, piece by piece. As much as he fought her, as much as he raged against her smile, the way she would bounce into his office with a brilliant idea – or something she'd done wrong – the way she would passionately and forcefully demand the news be done _right_, the way she refused to settle for nothing than the very best of him as a news anchor – all of these things slowly melted the tough exterior he'd built up, and piece by piece, he was put back together.

He wasn't complete yet; not by a long shot. But she'd done all she could do a long time ago, and now she was waiting.

Waiting for him.

Charlie took the bourbon glass from the desk in front of him and poured some more, much to Will's consternation.

'Charlie, it's eight in the morning.'

'And you don't have to be on air for twelve hours.'

Will eyed him, but took the glass anyway.

'You're getting old, McAvoy,' he said, waving his glass at him in some kind of morbid toast. 'Stop fucking around.'

* * *

_Thanks for all the feedback - I really appreciate it! Feel free to keep it coming - all feedback is very much welcome._


	8. Chapter 8

The next few days continued on in the same vein for Will and Mackenzie, and by extension, the entire newsroom. They barely spoke, and when they did it was only what was absolutely necessary. She kept her chatter in his ear to a bare minimum, and his replies were short and to the point. People tiptoed around them more than usual, MacKenzie noticed, and she didn't blame them; it felt like she'd spent more time yelling at people who weren't Will this week, than in all the other weeks of her career combined. And that was _a lot_ of yelling.

Thursday came, and the broadcast was over again for another night, and Mac felt _relieved_. She pulled her headset off slowly and leant back against the control panel, rubbing her eyes with her hands. She was drained, emotionally and physically, and she wanted nothing more than to climb into her bed and hug her pillows and forget about life for a few blissful hours until she had to come in and do it all again tomorrow and deal with Will and...

She turned and walked slowly back to her office, pulling her hair out of its ponytail, and then deciding it needed to stay just where it was because it was just at that length where it was driving her crazy. She wandered through the newsroom, looking around at the almost empty room, a pang of guilt striking her. It was her fault it had been a hard week on them, she realised; she and Will hadn't been the easiest bosses.

_Will._

She pushed her door open and surveyed her now dark – someone must have turned the lights off – and horribly messy office. Her desk was only identifiable by the fact that there was paper and a computer that appeared to be sitting in mid-air. She sighed, kicking off her shoes, and started making a vague attempt at tidying up when she heard a knock on the door. She turned to see Will McAvoy standing there, a small box in his hands. He hadn't changed from the broadcast, so he was still in his suit, but he'd managed to discard the tie.

She frowned and looked down at the box he was now turning over and over. She knew the colour of that box very, very well. She doubted if there was a woman in the western world who didn't recognise that colour. She looked up at him warily, her eyes wide.

'I'm sorry about the photos,' he said. She stared at him, stunned. 'I'm sorry I didn't tell you about Nina; that you got dragged into all of that. And that you got hurt,' he continued. 'It wasn't my intention. At least not this time.'

She blinked. He was standing here, in front of her, apologising. She had no idea what to say, so she just frowned and nodded.

'And I'm sorry for the ring. That was…it was cruel and…I just…I couldn't…well, you know why.' She swallowed; the hurt was still too new.

'But I'm not sorry for kissing you,' he added. 'Even thought I was a little drunk and…everything…I don't regret that.'

Mackenzie McHale nearly died on the spot. She stared at him, her mouth open and her mind completely blank.

'I didn't mean to hurt you,' he said quietly, looking down at his hands before looking back up at her. She nodded again, words still failing her. 'And I'm really, really glad you came over that night.'

She looked down at his hands, still playing with the box. She wasn't sure how she felt about that night. He'd ripped her heart out and stomped on it – again. But something had broken that night. Something in both of them. Six months ago she wouldn't have had the strength to push him away; six months ago he wouldn't have even let her in his apartment, let alone kissed her.

Six months ago he wasn't dating Nina Howard. She sighed.

'It's not your fault that my photo ended up in the tabloids. Well, it is in a way, because if you hadn't been dating Nina Howard then there wouldn't have even really been a story. And if you'd told me about you dating Nina Howard then I wouldn't have even been there-'

'But you were,' he said, taking a step towards her. He took in a deep breath and exhaled. Mac noticed that his hands were shaking. '_You_ were there.'

'Will, what's wrong?' she asked, voice wary.

'Charlie said I should stop fucking around,' he muttered, clearly more to himself than her. He was staring at the box in front of him. 'You know,' he started, a little louder this time, 'when Charlie's sober, he can actually be pretty profound,' he said, smiling a little to himself. 'He said _forgiveness is giving up my right to hurt you the way you hurt me_.' He stared into her eyes, taking a step closer. 'I thought I needed to forgive you, Mac. I've been doing nothing but hurting you for a long, long time now. I thought that statement applied to me, but...' He sighed.

She watched as he took another step closer; they were only a foot apart by now. She leant back to steady herself on the desk; she was running on caffeine and adrenaline and she was absolutely terrified of where this conversation was going and she needed to _breathe_ for just a second.

'I was wrong. I'm the one who needs…' he trailed off, taking a deep breath in. 'I shouldn't have hurt you.'

He looked down at his hands, suddenly remembering why he'd come. He glanced up at her quickly before fumbling with the box, trying to get the ring out, mentally cursing whoever thought it was a good idea to put the damn thing in fifteen boxes within boxes and why did they do this to poor men in his situation and isn't it hard enough to…

He grabbed the ring, holding it in fingers, and looked up at her.

She gasped, and looked up at him. She could hear her heartbeat pounding in her ears.

'I love you, Mac, and I always will. It's not something that's ever going to change. I never stopped loving you and I will always love you, no matter what happens. You own me. It's always been you,' he said in only one breath, stopping at the end to take a few shallow breaths, nerves completely overwhelming him.

She stared at him, her mouth open and her eyes wide, as he took another step towards her.

'I love you. Will you marry me?' he blurted out, now only inches away from her.

'What?' she asked automatically. Her hand went to her mouth as soon as she'd said it.

'Will you marry me? I love you,' he said again, his voice betraying the uncertainty that coursed through his mind.

Her mind was blank and yet a million thoughts seemed to fly through it in seconds. Will McAvoy was proposing to her. He was _proposing._ He wanted to _marry her_.

'I know I don't deserve a thing from you outside of perhaps hatred and disdain for the rest of my life and I know I've been nothing but cruel to you for years, but I promise I will never, ever hurt you again.'

'Yes,' she said quietly, trying to keep her voice as steady as possible, and failing miserably.

'You own me. You always have,' he said before his brain could register what she'd said. He stopped suddenly when it finally did. '…Yes?'

'Yes,' she said, swallowing, her eyes still wide.

His mouth slowly curved into an incredulous smile. 'Yes,' he said again, disbelieving.

'Yes, you idiot, I will marry you!' she cried, momentarily closing her eyes in frustration.

In that second he'd closed the distance between them, his lips crashing down on hers. He wrapped his arms around her, kissing her gently but passionately. She slowly raised her arms so she was hanging onto his, her lips moving in time with his. She was drowning in his kiss and his arms and she didn't care _a single bit_. He pulled back slightly, running his hands down her arms before grabbing her hands with the fingers that were free, his forehead resting on hers.

'Two years, McAvoy,' she said quietly, pulling back slightly to look him in the eye, a sly grin on her face.

'I do believe it has been one year, eleven months and some small number of days,' he mumbled back quietly, before his lips once again captured hers. His arms were at her waist now, and she slowly wrapped her arms around his neck, losing her fingers in his hair. She felt his sudden exhale, and her heart swelled knowing that he hadn't changed. _Good_, she thought, as she moved one hand around to his neck, slowly rubbing his clean-shaven cheek with her hand. His hands gripped her waist tightly before slowly inching up her ribcage, to which she responded with a sharp intake of breath. He grinned against her mouth. 'Bastard,' she whispered, before kissing him again hungrily, slowly running her tongue across his lips. He happily obliged her, slowly deepening the kiss.

He pushed her back against the edge of the desk, one of his hands now taking up residence at the small of her back, keeping her close to him. Her hand slowly slipped from his neck down to the lapel of his jacket, and she gripped it, pulling him closer again.

His hands continued to roam her body, avoiding most of the key areas for now; there would be _plenty_ of time for that later, he reasoned. That, and if he let himself go he suspected they'd end up in some serious trouble with HR for having sex in an office of ACN – no matter how late it was and how few people were still around.

Mackenzie, however, had other ideas; she slowly slipped her hand sideways until her palm was resting on his shirt, then slowly slipping it under his jacket to the warmth of his shirt-covered chest below. He let out a small moan, and she couldn't stop herself from grinning under his kiss. He pulled away, his eyes glittering.

'We should get out of here,' he muttered, turning his head slightly to plant a kiss on her jawline. She couldn't help but let out a small whimper of her own, and she could feel him smiling against her skin.

'We could definitely leave now,' she muttered, as he continued to trail kisses down her jawline and onto her neck. His hands slipped lower until they were on her hips, and he dug his fingers in slightly, getting the response he desired; a sharp intake of breath from Mackenzie.

'Will,' she said quietly, trying desperately to keep her voice even – failing miserably, he noted – as she gently pushed him back. He left one last kiss on her neck, before lifting his head to look at her. MacKenzie thought she saw a slight nervousness – uncertainty, maybe – in his eyes.

'Would you, uh…are you busy this evening?' he asked. She smiled warmly, lifting her arms slowly and sliding them onto his shoulders.

'I think I might be,' she replied, leaning down to leave a soft kiss on his jawline. She felt the muscles in his jaw tighten as she began to trail kisses down his neck. She eventually stopped, looking up at him.

'I think you might be,' he replied, his voice distinctly more gravelly than a few seconds ago. He coughed a little, before holding up his right hand, the ring still held firmly in his fingers. 'I think I need to do something with this first,' he said quietly. She grinned shyly, biting her lip. She lifted her left hand, and he slowly pushed the ring on to her finger.

It fit perfectly. Her eyes widened and she looked up at him. 'You knew my ring size?'

'I had intended on marrying you, Mac. I just hadn't gotten around to a ring,' he said quietly, slowly lifting her hand and kissing her knuckles. She watched him do it, tears forming in her eyes.

She groaned. 'Why were we so…' she trailed off, unable to think of the right word, letting her head fall onto his chest. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her tight.

'Stupid? Idiotic? Proud?' he supplied, and she laughed.

'Yes, yes, all of the above.'

He wrapped his arms around her and she turned her head so she could see her left hand, which was now resting on his chest. The diamond reflected in the light of the bullpen that shone through the glass walls. It was perfect.

Well, maybe not perfect; they still had a lot to work through.

But in this moment, it was close enough for her.

* * *

_And that's about it! I'm a sucker for a happy ending. I hope you enjoyed it all._


End file.
